


Just Take My Damn Hand

by bloopmichael



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M, Hogwarts or wizardry is barely mentioned, Hufflepuff!Y/N, I didn't make them in a specific year so idk their ages, Idk I thought it was cute while I was writing it, Only basic knowledge of Harry Potter is necessary to read, and since it's an AU there's nothing about 5sos, but they have class together so obviously they're in the same year, slytherin!michael, this is basically just a situation I imagined in my head and spent 6 hours writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 15:36:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12368796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloopmichael/pseuds/bloopmichael
Summary: You extended your hand out to Michael, offering to help him up.He looks at your hand and scoffs. “After all I’ve done and you’re still gonna be nice to me, sweetheart?”He was right. You knew he didn’t deserve your kindness, but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you knew you didn’t help him.“It’s the right thing to do,” you say confidently.He sighs. “Always doing the right thing. Such a Huf-”“Just take my damn hand and get up so I can leave and never see you again,” you snap.“You sure about that? There isn’t something else you want to do first?” He asks with a cocked eyebrow and a smug look on his face.





	Just Take My Damn Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me while I was reading Harry Potter and I kind of just went with it. I'm thinking of doing a part two, so as always any and all feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Edit - I’m still in the process of finishing the Harry Potter series but I don’t like this anymore, I don’t want to delete it though I’m just kind of abandoning it I guess

You marched out of your Arithmancy class, seething with anger and embarrassment. Once again, your least favorite Slytherin boy Michael Clifford had spent all class purposely annoying you, just for his own entertainment. The two of you spent every class like this - you desperately trying to pay attention while Michael insisted on being a bother. You weren’t sure why the blonde haired boy was so keen on irritating you. Sure, Slytherin had a reputation for being somewhat cruel or troublesome, but you had done nothing wrong to him. In fact, the both of you had started out the school year very peacefully. You had always made an effort to be nice to him, letting him borrow your notes or smiling at him when you passed each other in the corridor on your way to class. But somehow, something had changed. Lately, he crumpled up your notes with a mean smirk and ignored your friendly gazes with a frown. 

Today he had been especially mean, going as far as getting you in trouble with the professor for something that wasn’t even your fault. Your punishment was 5 points off for Hufflepuff, and as an additional embarrassment, howls of laughter from the rest of the class. You always struggled to keep up in the class, constantly being overshadowed or not taken seriously by your classmates from other houses. It felt as if everyone in the class was expecting you to fail because you were a Hufflepuff, as if you couldn’t do well in a challenging subject for not being as naturally gifted as everyone else. And now everyone thought you were even more of a joke, just because of some stupid boy who thought it was funny to ruin your day.

You felt like he had betrayed you. You and this boy had started off the school year as friends, despite your doubt that a Slytherin could be anything more than an enemy. But something seemed to have switched inside of him, and now you could barely believe you had ever considered him your friend. 

You tried your best to hold in your emotions as you sped through the corridor, which was empty since everyone else was in class at the time. You weren’t sure where you were going, but you were determined to find somewhere you could possibly hide until you calmed yourself down. You didn’t want anyone else to see how angry Michael had made you.

You keep your eyes low to the ground, desperately hoping the tears you were holding back wouldn’t fall down your cheeks. You were hiding your face even though it didn’t matter, since there didn’t seem to be another soul in the corridor.  
Suddenly, someone appears in front of you, blocking your path. You’re forced to direct your gaze from the floor to the body in your way. 

You find a pair of sly, glittering emerald eyes accompanied by an all too familiar smirk.

“What do you want, Michael?” You attempt to keep your voice calm and steady, but your words come out trembled.

“I noticed you running off as soon as class was over. Something wrong?” His words sounded caring, but he was clearly teasing you. He knew you weren’t going to admit your anger, much less defend yourself. 

“I’m fine. Why do you care?” You retort, standing up straighter and folding your arms to regain your confidence. You weren’t going to let him break you. 

“Just wondering, that’s all,” he shrugs. But before you can even think about possibly forgiving him for checking up on you, he says another insult that tells you he wasn’t done with his torment. “I know how sensitive you Hufflepuffs can be.”

“Being kind and caring doesn’t mean that you’re sensitive. It just makes you a decent person. Not that you would know anything about that.” You let the spiteful words slip out of your mouth before realizing you were only giving him exactly what he wanted - for you to join his game. 

He looks somewhat surprised, but mostly satisfied with himself for finally getting something out of you. “Is that all you’ve got, sweetheart?” He challenges. He wanted you to yell, to get angry, to forget how nice you were supposed to be. You were always so damn nice all the time, he just wanted to see you be something else for once. But you had always vowed to not let your emotions get the best of you, especially the negative ones. And right now, you were more furious than you had ever been. 

You stayed silent. The only thoughts running through your mind right now were hateful, and you were determined to counteract Michael’s spite. 

“Don’t have anything to say for yourself? I guess the rumors are true; Hufflepuffs really are weak.”

You arms reached out gripped the top of Michael’s shirt. You pulled on the material tightly balled inside of your fists and jerked his body towards you, only a few inches away from your face, and said your next words very carefully. 

“Listen here, Michael. You can tease and torture me all you want in class, but don’t you dare go around insulting my house. Every single Hufflepuff is better than one of your Slytherin could ever hope to be. Ever wondered why the other houses like us so much more? It’s because we don’t bully people for fun. Unlike you, we actually care about others. I was even nice enough to try and be friends with you, until you all of the sudden decided to be an asshole to me for absolutely no reason. What’s your problem, Michael? Just leave me the hell alone, or else.”

“Or else what?” He chuckles smugly. 

Your next attack happened so quickly your brain had trouble processing the series of events as they occurred. Your hands pushed forward, causing Michael to fall backwards. Except, you accidentally fell with him, hovering almost a foot over his body as he came in contact with the ground. 

He winced in pain, muttering a few quiet curse words from the force of the impact. Even in your rage, you felt guilty that you had hurt him, but you knew his injury wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe he might’ve gotten a small bruise, but it was likely nothing compared to the injuries he got from playing Quidditch. He always liked to brag about how great he was, but you knew was somewhat clumsy when it came to playing the sport. 

He reopened his furrowed eyes to see you awkwardly perched above him. The grimace on his face slowly fades, a more gentle look taking its place. 

From your new position, you notice his piercing green eyes looking much less intense. He always kept them hard and serious, glaring at anyone who dared to get in his way. Now, you saw eyes that would normally be a sinister Slytherin green look absolutely mesmerizing. 

You feel as if you’re frozen in time on top of Michael. You can’t tear yourself away from him. You’re stuck staring deep into his eyes, admiring the specks of color swimming in his irises. 

Your eyes continued scanning his face, now examining his other features. He was nice to look at without his usual scowl or smugness. Maybe even cute. His ruffled blonde hair and the flush against his pale skin gave him a much softer look you had never seen on him before, but you liked it. 

Your gaze moved to his mouth, which was slightly parted as he breathed. His lips were tinted a pretty rose hue, similar to the redness of his cheeks. The skin looked a bit chapped, but smooth.  
You wondered how gentle and soft his lips would feel on your own.

You swallow thickly, becoming nervous and almost fearful as that last thought goes through your head. 

Below yourself, you notice the corner of Michael's mouth curve into a sly grin. 

You glance back to his eyes, which give you a self-satisfied, proud look. He must’ve caught on to what you were thinking of. A blush creeps to your cheeks, burning your skin with embarrassment. 

“Sorry - I shouldn’t have - I - Sorry.” You stammer, letting go of his shirt and quickly detaching yourself from his body. You stand up on your feet, but don’t dare to make eye contact with Michael.

He doesn’t follow your lead in getting to his feet. Instead, he pushes his back off of the floor to sit up, keeping his long legs stuck out from him. He uses his arms to prop himself up, palms pressing into the cold floor. 

Maybe he was waiting for you to leave, or say something else. Maybe he was like you were earlier and froze, not knowing what to do. Either way, you felt the need to make the next move. 

You extended your hand out to Michael, offering to help him up.

He looks at your hand and scoffs. “After all I’ve done and you’re still gonna be nice to me, sweetheart?” 

He was right. You knew he didn’t deserve your kindness, but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you knew you didn’t help him. 

“It’s the right thing to do,” you say confidently.

He sighs. “Always doing the right thing. Such a Huf-”

“Just take my damn hand and get up so I can leave and never see you again,” you snap.

“You sure about that? There isn’t something else you want to do first?” He asks with a cocked eyebrow and a smug look on his face. 

He’s referring to your gaze from earlier, where you somehow let yourself get lost in the thought of your lips on his. 

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” you mumble.

“Why not?” He inquires.

You had many reasons why kissing Michael wasn’t a good idea. Besides the conflict and disparity between your houses, you could only imagine what everyone else would think about you and Michael.

The news would spread like wildfire throughout Hogwarts; you’d never hear the end of it. You were a clueless, good-for-nothing Hufflepuff girl, and you had attacked one of the most popular boys from Slytherin. You had gone against the values of your house, and became so overpowered with emotion that you got violent. And then, to top it all off, kissed the boy afterwards? Everyone would surely think you were insane. 

Still, your brain struggled to come up with an argument that you truly believed enough to get rid of your urge to put your lips on Michael’s. So, you settle for the obvious excuse.

“Because… you’re a Slytherin.”

His expression doesn’t change at all. The obvious differences between you two seemed to mean nothing to him. “So?”

“So, you’re a selfish liar. You haven’t once proved to me that you could be anything but,” you add. It was true, but it was still just another excuse. 

“You make it sound like we’re all evil,” he chuckles.

“You are. Especially you,” you state. Your hand is still hanging in the air, and you wish he would just take it so you could leave and forget this moment ever happened. 

“Something tells me you don’t actually believe that, sweetheart.” The wicked smirk on his lips only seems to get bigger.

“Stop calling me that,” you demand. You try your best to be sharp and serious to hide the way your heart jumps when he calls you the cute name. 

“It’s true,” he admits.

You sigh again, frustrated that Michael won’t just take your hand already. “Do you want me to leave or not?”

“I want you to do whatever it is you want to do.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“I think you know exactly what I mean. If what you really wanted was to leave, then you would’ve already done it awhile ago.”

You groan. You were tired of Michael teasing you for your embarrassing moment. You knew he was just messing with you like always, except this time you weren’t going to budge. “Take my hand before I tackle you again. This time even harder.”

He rolls his eyes, but seems to listen to your warning. “Fine. If you’re too scared to make a move, I’ll do it.”

“I’m not sc-"

He finally grabs your hand. However, he surprises you by dragging you to the ground with him. You gasp as you land on top of his chest again, only inches away from his face. 

He was right. You could leave if you wanted to, very easily. All you had to do was get up and run away. You could go back to normal, meaning you’d still be the screw-up of your house and the girl Michael liked to make miserable in Arithmancy class. And you were fine with that. But that wasn’t what you really wanted. 

The only thing you wanted right now was your lips on his.

You gently place your hand on the side of Michael's face. His skin was soft underneath your light touch, and you kept your other hand clutching his. He sat up straighter now, keeping you straddled on his lap in the middle of the empty corridor. 

You were stuck in the moment again, helplessly gazing into Michael's eyes. You were tired of waiting for something more to happen, but you really were too scared to make the next move. 

“Just kiss me already, Michael,” you urge.  
He finally listens to you and smashes his lips into yours, much more passionately than you believed possible. Your eyes flutter shut and you follow his lead, losing yourself in the heavenly kiss.

He eventually pulls away, and you’re left breathless. A sweet smile spreads across his face. 

“Still don’t think it’s a good idea?”


End file.
